


all the good boys go to hell

by phinnia



Series: Ineffable Drabbles [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 05:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21314677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phinnia/pseuds/phinnia
Summary: Crowley goes out, accidentally runs into a pair of lesbians, and finds a new way to explain those eyes of his.  this is an actual thing.  i expect it would hurt.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537249
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	all the good boys go to hell

The club was called Eden now. 

Over the years it had been called Moist and Eat Me and Grunge Street and a lot of other names. It had been a wine bar for yuppies in the eighties and sometime in the late noughties it turned back into a club and it went through transfers of ownership more often than Hastur changed his hairstyle and now it was called Eden. This name, Crowley was pretty sure, would last at least another six weeks. 

It was absolutely nothing like the Eden he remembered, and that was probably the idea. (Naming things ironically had not been one of his ideas, although he'd wished it had been in retrospect. All humanity.) 

He never bothered paying. He just sort of walked past the muscle-bound human in leather at the door, who had other things to busy himself with at the time. 

He'd always liked dancing. And not the Blessed gavotte, either, or any one of those ridiculous things you had to do with partners. 

The sort of dancing that _snakes_ would probably get up to, if they'd managed to civilize a planet. 

This was one of those places. Trance-house music he could feel through his feet, lights of every color. He discreetly flicked out his tongue in the blackness to get a better smell of the place. Humanity in all its sweaty glory, a cocktail of illegal drugs, the odd cigarette, but no demons, no angels. 

Excellent. They were playing Billie Elilish. He's bought one of hers on a whim, but 'Ocean Eyes' had spooked him, so it got put in the Bentley's glove box and it was now a Best of Queen. Fortunately, this wasn't that song, it was 'all the good girls go to hell'. 

He could dance to that one. His glasses slide down his nose as he accidentally bumps into some girl.

"Sorry - oh, I just love your eyes!" she says on her way past. "Are those color contacts?"

"Eyeball tattoos." he lies. "Got 'em in New York." 

"Lovely!" She wanders off with her friend, waving back at him. 

He thanked Satan they were together. He didn't want to deal with any weird mobile number business when he was already trying not to ... brood.


End file.
